


The Redemption Chronicles: Justice for a Templar

by nikerek



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Magic, Murder, Templar - Freeform, Weisshaupt Fortress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4745183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikerek/pseuds/nikerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Circle Tower - drunk on lyrium and haunted by his past - Cullen briefly wields the Templar seal in a misguided search for justice against mages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Redemption Chronicles: Justice for a Templar

"Abomination!" The word cut his throat on its way out. His hands bled from the scratches. Pieces of Cullen's bloody skin clung to the mage's nails as the mage gurgled. The mage's knees dug further into the damp earth as he struggled.

 

Cullen's chest pounded. He stood over the still body, turning rapidly to look at his surroundings. They were all alone. He was always alone.

 

He fell to his knees, his Templar armor rusting away from blood and the harsh falling rain.

 

+++++ A Week Later at Weisshaupt Fortress +++++

 

“Warden-Commander, there’s a strange man requesting your audience outside.”

 

Dahlia looked up from the war table, her brow raised. “Should I be concerned?”

 

“He’s a templar. Looks shady, but is extremely persistent.”

 

"That doesn't bode well. Send him in. Two guards on his heels." She casted a barrier that left her shrouded in a shimmering haze of white.

 

The templar’s steps were sluggish as he entered the war room. She hear the squish of his sopping metal boots as they dragged against the hard stone.

 

“Cullen?” she whispered. Dahlia stood a little straighter in spite of her knotted stomach. "Leave us," she said to the guards with an unsteady voice.

 

She eyed him as her men left. His spiraling hair hung over eyes that he'd yet brought up to meet hers.

 

She surveyed the distress of his armor and took a slow step forward. "You're the last person I expected to--"

 

Cullen cut her off. "Kill me." His voice was gruff.

 

Dahlia’s eyes widened. She tilted her head wondering if she misheard. "What?"

 

He raised his glossy eyes. “Kill me, please.”

 

“You’re ridiculous.” She tried to walk past him, hoping to put herself between him and the door.

 

Cullen quickly grabbed her elbow as the rest of his body remained still. She clenched her fist at the sharp pain. “Cullen--”

 

“You don’t know what it feels like to be in my head. And the things that I’ve done--” he paused. “I don’t deserve to live.”

 

“Why?” Her voice was sharp with worry. “What have you done?"

 

His grip on her tightened. He turned his head away. "I’ve murdered someone. Not in battle, not in defense. I just killed him because of what he was:  a mage.”

 

Dahlia’s stomach churned. “How could you?”

 

“I--I don’t know. I looked at him and saw the Circle Tower in flames... the demons they summoned..." His voice faded. “And then I lost control.”

 

She looked over her shoulder. “You’ve crossed a line, templar.”

 

“I know.” Cullen whispered. "That's why I'm here."

 

He stood within her barrier. She knew he was no threat to her and maybe that's why she couldn't dismiss him. “I still can't do it. I could never hurt you.”

 

With sudden movement, Cullen spun her to face him. She stepped back against the door. He gripped her wrist and pulled a dagger from his belt. He pushed the hilt of it in her palm. "I can make it easy for you." His hands over hers, he brought the blade to his throat. "Just push."

 

Dahlia struggled to pull her arm back. Repetitive "No's" softly came from her lips.

 

"Please, Dahlia." His eyes were red and even more glossed.

 

She tried stepping back, but he moved with her. Her free hand pushed against his armor. "I can't." Her back pressed against the door.

 

"I need you to!"

 

"Cullen, don't. I can't." Her hand slipped as she tried to move away.

 

Blood trickled from a small cut. "That’s it. Almost done.”

 

"No!" A burst of lightning scattered across her hand. The shock forced his palms to open. The dagger fell.

 

Cullen rested against her, his forearms pressed against the door. He buried his face in her hair.

 

Her arms at her side, Dahlia held her palms against the door, hoping for stability. "Cullen," she said, her voice much more steady than it had any right to be.

 

"I don’t trust myself anymore." His voice shook with the tears that dampened her hair.

 

"You have to stop holding the rest of us accountable for what those monsters did, Cullen. Just stay here for a while. We'll work on your demons."

 

He pressed his lips against her neck. "You make it so easy for me. Why would you do anything for me?"

 

"Love."

 

He sucked in a breath as he felt her throat vibrate with the word. Cullen grazed his cheek against hers. "Still? After all these years, everything I’ve done?"

 

"Always." Dahlia whispered. She breathed in his scent of lyrium and metal.

 

He breathed in the scent of her skin as well. Their bodies relaxed against each other. "I just want to love you like before. Before the demons."

 

"Everything's changed." Dahlia closed her eyes, trying to fight the warmth of his body that passed through the cold steel. Her hands betrayed her as they reached for the straps of his armor.  

 

Cullen felt lighter as the pieces of rusted silver fell one by one around them. His lips grazed her jaw and neck. He moved freely in the now oversized cotton shirt meant to keep his skin from chafing under the armor. He ran his hands along the silhouette of her body.

 

Dahlia slid to a crouch against the door. Jaw clenched, Cullen groaned as he watched her move down his body. She slipped the straps of his leg armor from their buckles. He held himself against the door. She looked up; they held each other's gaze as her nimble fingers loosened his laces.

 

He felt his erection throb. He held his breath briefly in need for her. Things were different, but he wanted her just the same.

 

Cullen cradled Dahlia’s cheek in his palm and guided her back to her feet. He brought his lips to hers. It had been years since they first said goodbye, since he felt her lips against his, tasted her tongue.  

 

Their past echoed in this kiss. Full of reckless love. It was rough, he never could be slow or gentle with her, he always needed her too much. Cullen's fingers twisted in her hair. Her nails dug into his shoulderblades.

 

His hands moved along the soft Orlesian fabric of her mage robes until he found the clasp. Cullen tugged the large decorative brooch at her hip and watched the robe give way to her skin. He kissed her chest and pushed her smalls down her hips.

 

He crouched slightly, his hands grabbing the backs of her thighs. Her lifted her legs against his hips and pushed her back against the wall for support.

 

Dahlia wrapped her arms around his neck. She gasped as he entered her.

 

There was a ferocity he couldn’t control. Cullen's fingers dug into her skin; his teeth were sharp against her neck. She held onto him, clawing at his shoulders and biting his earlobe. Moans passed their lips between breaths and bites. She tugged at his hair; he pressed into her harder. The heels of her shoes dug into backside.

 

With one hand still firmly on her thigh, Cullen wrapped Dahlia's hair around his fist and kissed her furiously, their teeth clanging together amidst the wrestling of eager tongues as if neither could get enough.

 

Dahlia felt Cullen pulse inside her with his nearing climax. She broke the kiss to release a loud moan, close to her own orgasm. His grip tightened, his pace slowed. Her nails pressed into the back of his neck. Her thighs trembled at his hips. He pulled her mouth back to his as he felt her tightening.

 

He rested his forehead against hers, catching his breath. Dahlia closed her eyes, slipping back into reality. Cullen set her feet on the floor gently and stepped back. He watched her refasten her robes as he laced his pants. She let her hair hang in her face and refused to look back.

 

“You’ve never been one to avoid telling me what’s on your mind, so why start now?” He brushed the sweat drenched hair from her clammy skin behind her ear.

 

Dahlia sighed. “I know you well enough to know you won’t be here come morning.” A moment of silence hung between them. “I’m just not good at saying goodbye to you.” She ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes back to the floor.

 

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes on the bookshelf behind her. Unspoken speeches lingered on his lips.

 

“You know I lo--”

 

“Don’t say it. I’m better if you don’t.” Dahlia stepped forward and placed her fingers on his forearms. Her lips touched Cullen's softly. She held herself a moment, lingering against him, giving herself one last, brief moment of bliss. She pulled away slowly, steeling herself in the process. “You don’t have to let go, but you need to stop holding others accountable. You don’t have to be like other templars, Cullen.”

 

Cullen watched her walk out of the war room and speak to her Wardens standing outside the door.

 

One Warden nodded, “I am to take you to a room in our guest quarters. You can stay as long as you like, we can even supply fresh clothes and Warden armor.”

 

Cullen watched the dawn peer through his open window. He stared at the

templar crust atop his rusted armor. He paced around the small room, childhood dreams and love pulling him in opposite directions.

  
Dahlia pulled the blankets tight around her shoulders as she stood before the windows of her quarters overlooking Weisshaupt's landscape. She damned her chest for constricting in disappointment as she watched her broken templar ride toward the horizon.


End file.
